


Changes

by SeafoamSoul



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Chapter 16: The Rescue, F/M, in this house we love one (1) space dad, soft!Din Djarin, this is just a lot of fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeafoamSoul/pseuds/SeafoamSoul
Summary: Set at the end of Chapter 16: The Rescue. Din’s been through a lot of changes recently, what’s one more to add to the list?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> The Mandalorian is the first (and only) Star War I've ever watched and I fell in love with Mando immediately and could not quell the need to write SOMETHING for him so. Here we are.

It’s amazing how much can change in such a small amount of time. Not that Din’s not used to change, very little of his life is stable, but there’s something about _these_ changes that sting, bury themselves under his skin and stab away at the armor around his heart. 

His home, or the closest thing to one he’s had in what feels like forever? Gone. Blown to pieces with nothing to remember it by save for a large hole in the ground and the little metal ball he rescued from the rubble just so he could pass it off to its rightful owner. 

The child, _his_ child? Gone. For his own good, to be trained in the ways of the Jedi. He knows the kid needs it, knows it’s what’s best for him, but not having the little womp rat looking up at him with those huge sparkling eyes was already doing severe damage to his nerves and he’d only just left.

The darksaber in his hand? Well, he still didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about that, about the implications it held with it. He could feel Bo-Katan’s eyes on him from behind, staring holes into the Beskar that shielded him from anything the world could throw at him. Well, almost anything. 

And then there was the fact that his helmet was off, held at his side as he stands staring at the door the Jedi took his son through without a second glance. Din’s not alone, the bridge practically brimming with people who can now say they’ve seen him, know what he looks like, could pick him out of a lineup. It would be startling enough even if he knew he could trust them all, but he can’t. 

He can trust you, though, he knows that at least. That among all these people, you’re the only one apart from the kid that he wanted to see his face. He could have removed his helmet for you months ago, thinks he should have even, but things took a turn for the worst and he was more focused on the kid than you. 

He still hadn’t moved, eyes trained on the bridge’s doors. No one else was moving, either, no words were shared. It was still, too still for his liking. He was used to being this quiet, this unmoving, but no one else here was. They were doing it for his benefit, and that made it even worse. 

Wordlessly, he slid his helmet back over his head, relishing in the quiet _click_ that resounded in his ears as it fell into place. Almost immediately, the bridge broke out into movement, voices finally filling the still air. 

“I should get Gideon onto Boba’s ship,” Cara said, tugging on his cuffed hands as she led him out of the bridge, Fennec right behind them. 

“We’re going to check out the ship,” Bo-Katan announced, eyes focused on the darksaber in Din’s hand as she passed by, Koska at her side. 

Which left the two of you. Alone. 

Din could hear you breathing, could feel your eyes on him even though he hadn’t turned around to face you. He couldn’t, not yet. He didn’t want you to see him, mask and all, after he revealed his face to a room full of people. You should’ve seen him earlier, and to know you only got to see him, to know him when he was three seconds from falling apart made it even worse. 

“I didn’t see anything,” you finally spoke from behind him, off to the right. Your battle station, you would always tell him, as his ‘comrade in arms’. You meant so much to him and you hadn’t even _looked_.

“Why?” he asked, voice rough. He could feel his emotions slipping, knew he probably needed some time to process everything, but he had to know. His helmet was off, face exposed, you could have looked. He was sure everyone else had, expected them to. But you, you held out.

“It wasn’t for me,” you answered simply, finally moving closer to his side, wrapping his free hand in yours. “It was for your son, I understand that. I didn’t want to disrespect you or the Creed. That moment wasn’t for me.”

His heart clenched in his chest, hand tightening around yours. You were always so understanding about his limitations, what he could and could not give you due to the Creed. And still, you stood by him, by his son, and never asked for more. When he told you his name, he was sure you were going to melt right there, hands wrapping around his middle and burying your face into his Beskar-covered chest. 

He could only imagine what your reaction would be when he showed you his face. 

On some level, he knew he could wait to do this, was probably spurred into doing it now because he just lost the kid. But he still had you, still beside him like you have been ever since you climbed onto his ship on Tatooine when he first met Peli. And the only thing he could think to do to even begin to heal himself from losing Grogu was to do this. 

Din slid the darksaber into his toolbelt, pulling you in front of him by your joined hands. Tilting his head just slightly, he met your eyes through the visor on his helmet. You were confused, he could see it in your face, but the trust he’s been seeing in your eyes for months now was still there. It was time, now, before everything got even more stressful. Before he had to find a new ship, before he had to figure out what having the darksaber meant for him. He was already dealing with more changes in such a short period of time, adding one more wouldn’t hurt. Not when it was you. 

His hands left yours, moving up to cradle your face, thumb gently moving across your cheek. “Cyare,” he breathed, vocoder barely picking up his voice. 

You nuzzled your face further into his glove, smile wide across your face. “Din,” you replied, voice just as quiet as his. The unspoken question about what this was, what he was doing, was loud and clear in your eyes.

Still, Din couldn’t seem to break his attention away from your face, not yet. He was dedicating your face to his memory, through the visor on his helmet. It would be different without it, he knew, and he was eager to see exactly _how_ different, but there was something about only knowing what you looked like through his helmet that meant something to him. You repeated his name again, your own hand coming up to cup the smooth steel of his helmet right where his cheek was hidden. And then he knew it was time. 

“I - I want you to see something,” he told you, one of his hands coming up to mold against your own on his helmet. “It’s time. I should have shown you months ago but Grogu and…It’s time.” He knew he was rambling, a sure sign he was nervous. His usually quiet, stoic nature falling to the wayside. Your eyes widened, darting between his visor and his hand holding onto yours, dragging it to the lip of his helmet. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, biting down on your bottom lip as he brought your other hand to the other side of his helmet, dropping his own to his sides. His hands clenched into fists, an audible breath escaping through his vocoder before he nodded just slightly. 

He could only imagine you were just as nervous as he was, that your mind was racing just as fast. Still, your hands were steady as you slowly lifted the helmet from his head, the quiet hiss of air releasing signaling the fact that this was really happening, that he was baring his face to you on purpose. 

Eyes closed as you finished removing his helmet, he missed the way your eyes flitted frantically across his face, trying to take in every detail. What he didn’t miss, however, was the soft exhale you let out as you dropped his helmet, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. They were rough under your hands, scruff tickling your palms as your thumbs stroked over his cheekbones. 

You knew he was gorgeous, he had to be. Knowing with absolute certainty now, though, seeing it with your own eyes filled you with a sense of pride. _You_ got to know him on purpose, got to know the specific set of his nose, the furrow between his brows. Your fingers mapped his face, eyes taking in every feature hungrily. Everything but his eyes, that is.

“Din,” you breathed, fingers trailing down from his forehead, brushing his mussed hair back. “Open your eyes.” Your hands settled once again on his cheeks as you waited. 

He had made eye contact with you countless times, even if you weren’t fully aware of it, the visor of his helmet making it impossible for you to know. But now, his warm brown eyes were opening slowly, settling onto your own. Completely unhindered eye contact, something the two of your were almost _sure_ you’d never get to experience, had both of you letting out breaths you weren’t even aware you were holding.

Din was sure the smile on your face was going to split your cheeks, his own lips lifting to smile back at you. Seeing your face unhindered by his helmet meant as much to him as it did to you, his heart hammering away in his chest as he brought a hand up to your cheek, mirroring you. It was quiet, the air between you only filled with the sounds of your breaths. The two of you were impossibly still, your eyes the only things daring to move, taking in every detail they could.

Until you couldn’t contain yourself anymore, launching forward to press your lips desperately against Din’s, hands falling from his cheeks to wrap around his neck and pull him impossibly closer. He followed willingly, kiss desperate, teeth clashing against yours, but perfect all the same because it was _you_ , the two of you unhindered.

He pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours like he’d done time and time again before in his helmet. But now it was his bare forehead against your own, his ragged breathing clear in your ears without having to fight through his vocoder. You didn’t even know you were crying until his thumbs were swiping against your cheeks, clearing the tears from your face. 

You let out a watery laugh, kissing the tip of his nose before stepping back to grab his helmet from the ground. It dangled from your finger, held out to him. “Come on, Mando. We’ve got a prisoner to help deliver to Nevarro.”

He took the helmet from your hands, watching as you left the bridge. You turned back to him when you reached the elevator, tilting your head to the side as you waited for him. Smile still on his face, Din slid the helmet over his head once again before joining you in front of the elevator doors. Your eyes were sparkling as you looked up at him, meeting his own through his visor. When the doors opened, you pressed a kiss to the Beskar covering his cheek and led him into the elevator. 

Changes are inevitable, especially in Din’s line of work, in his life. But this change wasn’t so bad. And having you by his side through the rest of them that were sure to come? He wasn’t worried. Not when that smile hadn’t left your face since his helmet had come off by your own hands.


End file.
